letter no. 1

there is a 5% to 6% chance

something could go wrong

and life would not be the same

or death could, perhaps, succeed living

and the hyper-correctness of AP style

while i am alive and lucid, therefore

i wish to ask you a question —

what will happen when you die?

we all do someday, you know

whether freshly reckless or time-worn

i’ve cultivated our relationship carelessly

so you’d cease surprise at my queries

why do you act like God isn’t there —

or do you? this didn’t come on suddenly

i’ve been wondering for 566 days

does your homage go to long-locked rabbis

the prince in his red-flocked slippers

or the God before time began?

i will ask you one day, i will

because it scares me

because i need to know

because you shouldn’t die

a rebel and deceived —

you were made for the greatest thing

the greater glory of God, fully enjoyed

you’ve heard that droned on like bees

waxy wafer and wine on your lips

haven’t you? and forgotten, disillusioned

you don’t have to die while alive

so if something does go right

i hope you’ll finally see freely